


Forbidden Fluff: A Demon x Reader Romance, without all the angst

by RowanKastaros



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon x reader, Demonic Possession, F/F, F/M, Forbidden Romance, Nightmares, especially the forbidden onces, ie the hunters, this demon has a thing for mortals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-01-11 22:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18433433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanKastaros/pseuds/RowanKastaros
Summary: Basically, there’s too much angsty demon romance out there for my taste so I decided it was time for a change. Here’s to feeling sorry for demons and having hunters fall in love with them against all odds. This is based in Supernatural





	1. Buses in the Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t mind how awful this probably sounds, I wrote it at 2 in the morning

The low hum of an engine and the scratching of a pen on paper are the only sounds to be heard as the near-empty bus trundles along the darkening road. The last rays of sunset are beginning to burn out behind the frosted glass of the bus’s windows, the singular passenger not seeming to notice or mind the imminent darkness as she continues writing. With a harsh screech, the bus comes to an abrupt halt, doors opening with a low, heavy whoosh. You step onto the bus, taking in the appearance of the other. She‘s wearing a black hoodie with what looked to be an anti-possession symbol emblazoned on the front. She has cropped, dark hair, seems short and timid in stature, yet her eyes are lowered, buried in her journal so that you cannot make out the colour that burns from within them. The driver snaps you out of your apparent daze, distracting you from your silent contemplation of the mysterious character behind you.

“Where are you headed today?” He asks in a low, gruff voice.

“Not far, the motel just off Deanwood Avenue please,” you respond shyly.

“That’s $1.50,” you pay the fee and make your way towards the back of the bus, hoping to get a closer look at the other passenger. She intrigued you for some reason; you’re not quite sure why, but you feel compelled to speak with her. Taking in the journal and the hoodie once more, you settle on a conversation topic.

“Wow, so great to see another hunter out and doing their job! What case are you on?” You sit down in the seat next to her, painfully aware of how short the closing distance between you is, yet feeling as though you should not back away.

“On a case? Sorry dear, not today,” she grimaces into her notebook and you can tell she’s holding something back.

“On your way to Ellen’s then? That’s where I’m headed too!” Your enthusiasm sets her off guard a little and she glances up at you, flashing yellow eyes.

“Try again, darling. Ellen doesn’t welcome my kind,” again she makes an almost pained expression, seeming ashamed of her position

“Azazel?” You breathe, worried you may have finally crossed your greatest adversary, and on a bus journey without supplies no less.

“He wishes he were me,” the demon’s voice turns savage, a strange, wrathful aggression filling her, before subsiding, like the peak of a wave, crashing immediately into a trough. She looks up, meeting your eyes apologetically. “Sorry. I get mistaken for him a lot, it is rather infuriating. My name is-“ she trailed off, gazing distractedly just past your face, as though she cannot quite see you, as though she is looking into the disapproving eyes of another, “No, I should not tell. You are a hunter. If you know who I am, you may kill me...”

She buried her face back in her journal, and you think you hear her stifle a soft cry, though you cannot be entirely sure. 

“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to tell me your name. I’m (y/n), by the way. What are you writing about?” The abrupt change in the direction of the conversation appears to cheer her slightly, and she gratefully shows you the journal she is working on. It’s full of information on the most dangerous mythical creatures from many ancient cultures. 

“So, you work with animals!” You cry delightedly, forgetting in that moment that this is a creature of night itself. 

“No, I work at Beelzebub’s penitentiary. Uh, I mean, I’m his assistant. I file his paperwork, deal with the more,” she coughs uncomfortably, “unruly customers of Hell, answer faxes, et cetera. Sometimes, I have to journey to Earth to catch one of his escaped creatures. Honestly I think he lets them out to get rid of me for a while.” She smiles awkwardly at you, and you realise in that moment that she cannot be truly evil, despite her demonic presence. The light of a realised ambition dawns on your face as you gaze at her in a new light, some form of kindly love overpowering the innermost hatred that was ingrained in you within six months of your birth.

“That’s awful!” You exclaim, hoping she can see that sympathy that lies beneath your anger.

“Its alright, I mean, I’m used to it. And you?”

“Well...”

“Well?”

You begin to explain all about how you became a hunter and what it is you do most, before pulling out a journal, almost identical to hers.

“I like to keep notes on all the cases i follow. This one was my favourite,” You point to a drawing that you’re particularly impressed with, of a reaper caught in a trap.

“Prisoner forty-two,” you proclaim proudly. “One of the most difficult but rewarding cases I’ve dealt with - a reaper who likes to take people before their time.” The demon is gazing at you in awe, as though seeing you for the first time.

“Wow (y/n), that’s incredible!” She moves a little closer to you, and you can feel a sort of tension between you, despite all the friendly conversation. You find yourself leaning in to welcome the attention, when the driver’s gruff voice cuts through the bus’s tension-thick air.

“Deanwood Avenue!” He yells, his voice too loud for the intimate quiet of the back seats. You stand up to leave, and find the demon’s hand entwined with yours as she stands up too.

“This is my stop too. Mind if I walk with you (y/n)?”

You want so badly to say yes, but it could be dangerous. How can you trust this creature? You don’t even know her name!

“It’s Ronove,”

“What?”

“You were thinking that you couldn’t trust me, well there. My name is Ronove,” though she only whispers, her voice sounds like a harsh echo being swallowed a huge ravenous cave. Ronove? You cannot allow her to stay with you. Ellen would destroy her on sight. She doesn’t deserve that.

“Hey, (y/n), it’s ok. You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll just start the search for this escaped chimera tonight instead of tomorrow. It’s not like i need to sleep anyway, right?” She forces a grin through her tear-pricked eyes, and you cannot help but feel sorry for her. You find yourself rapt in attention as her fingers trace a distracting pattern in the air, her hand slipping further from yours. She notices your attentive look and stops, snapping you back to reality.

“Sorry,” she sighs. “Force of habit. I really need to stop doing that.”

“What exactly were you doing?”

“It’s a demon thing, I can’t really explain it. I am so sorry, (y/n),” she speaks so tenderly, so kindly, so sincerely that you feel compelled to listen, but this time it is all of your own free will. 

“Ronove, will you come back to Ellen’s with me? Keep your journal out and your eyes low until we get to my room. Nobody will question a shy hunter. They all know the trauma we go through. They’ve all felt it themselves.”

“Thanks (y/n), I really appreciate that”

So you take the demon by the hand and lead her down the ever-darkening road. 


	2. Teaching a demon about fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you and Ronove arrive at the motel, you are reunited with an old friend, and you share the memory-making fun of a lifetime with a demon who has surprisingly beautiful emotions

It’s not long before the darkness is pierced by the blinding neon sign that indicates you’re approaching Ellen’s motel. You hand Ronove a pen as she pulls out the journal she had been working on before.  
“Remember, eyes down. Nobody will suspect a thing,” you warn her.  
“Yes, (y/n), I got that,” she mutters. You think you detect a hint of irritation in her voice, but you let her be. You figure, it’s reasonable for a demon to be a little jumpy when approaching a building full of hunters. You take her free hand back into your own, making sure she doesn’t feel to nervous. She squeezes your hand in grateful response, grimacing into her journal.  
The door opens with a slight touch and the shrill sound of a bell causes Ronove to wince. You glance toward her, and sure enough she’s got her head down, buried in that book that she takes such good care of. You find yourself wondering if she would ever treat you with such immaculate reverence, shaking your head a little to remind yourself that you just met her. And besides, you’re a hunter! You can’t get caught up with a demon! Right?

You feel the eyes of several hunters following you as you walk through the foyer. Most of them just go back to their business, but you feel one presence lingering upon you. Realising who it is, you gesture to Ronove to keep walking and turn around.  
“Sam!” You smile tightly and attempt pleasantries. You never were the best at small talk, but you thought it was only fair to acknowledge an old friend.  
“Hey, (y/n), did you ever catch that creature you were after? You know, the one in Missouri?”  
“Yeah, thanks Sam. I got it alright,” you try to pull yourself away but another question draws you back.  
“So, who’s your friend over there? She new?” His polite conversation feels more like an interrogation the longer you are made to leave Ronove, but you force yourself to answer equally politely.  
“Yeah, she’s an old friend of mine. She’s helping out on a case. Please, I really must be going,” You hurry away from Sam, eyes averted from the crowd of hunters around him. You decide it’s probably a good idea to get away before his brother comes back from the bar; he’s a little less polite and would be furious if he knew you had brought a demon into the motel. Besides, that angel he was always hanging out with scared you a little. You had always found it easier to accompany demons than angels, so you tried to steer clear of Dean and his new buddy these days.   
“Talk to you soon, yeah?” You hear Sam ask from behind you.  
“Uh, yeah, ok, sure thing,” you stammer, rushing back to check on Ronove before you attract any more attention.

You catch up with her and take her free hand, guiding her through the reception area and up the stairs to the guest rooms. Thankfully, nobody bothered either of you, but you remain silent until you reach your room and push open the door. It slams behind you, making both of you jump in shock. At this, you break, the exhaustion and complete ridiculousness of the evening catching up with you. You crash onto the bed, laughing until tears stroked your cheeks and your sides begin to hurt. Smiling sincerely at each other, you sit up, fits of giggles still racking your bodies. Ronove takes your hands, lacing your fingers through hers.   
“Thank you, (y/n). You have done so much for me, yet we hardly even know each other,” she sighs contentedly and shifts her body closer to yours. You feel your heart beating faster as you try to force down the pinkish flush that’s rising in your cheeks. Something about the way Ronove acts is just so different to other demons. You squeeze her hand gently, showing your affection, and to your surprise, she reciprocates, unlacing your fingers and neatly crushing you in a sincere and meaningful hug.

Without warning, you find yourself crashed on your own bed, Ronove near dying with laughter beside you. The demon pushed you! You stifle a laugh, trying to shoot Ronove a death glare, and naturally failing miserably. Naturally, as any mature adult would. You clutch a pillow between your fallen arms, sit up swiftly and knock her around the middle with it. Before you know it, the pair of you are engaged in a classic pillow fight, teenagers at a slumber party style. 

Soft feathers and down caressing your body, though perhaps a little more violently than they usually would, you begin to feel exhausted. Signalling this to Ronove, the pair of you relent, crashing back onto your mattress and laying there together, entwined in a warm, comforting knot, ready for some rest.

“Thanks again (y/n),” the tired demon whispers into your ear.  
“Whatever for?”   
“Showing me what it’s like- to have fun, I mean. I haven’t done that since, well, long before you can remember.  
“Your welcome, Ronove, dear,” and before she has time to reply to you, sleep grips your mind and drags you down into the realm of dreams.


End file.
